Ch. 22

Suddenly going from peaceful slumber to total awareness, Valerie fully awoke when she realized she was alone in the room. Wondering if Dante had already left for work, she looked around for a note or some indication that he wasn't in the house. She got out of bed and reached for her robe, intending to go downstairs and investigate. A heavenly scent invaded her senses as soon as she opened the bedroom door. It seemed as though Dante was still in the house. And he was, from what she could smell, cooking breakfast. She couldn't stop a happy grin from appearing on her face; she closed the door and went to her bathroom to take a shower and prepare for the day.

Finally descending the staircase, Val followed her nose into the kitchen, where Dante was putting away the dishes he had used to make breakfast after washing them. She paused for a moment and then, deciding to be bold and brave, she approached him and slid her arms around his waist before brushing a light kiss on the side of his neck. He looked over his shoulder and with an answering smile said, "Hey, good morning, Angel—it's about time you got up." Her heartbeat accelerated as she thought, "Angel? Wow." Aloud she said, "Why didn't you wake me up when you got up? I can't believe I didn't hear you leave the room; I'm usually such a light sleeper." "You were way gone when I got up and I didn't have the heart to wake you. You should have seen yourself lying there with this peaceful, angelic look on your face. The way your hair was fanned out all over the pillow. When I saw you, 'what an Angel' was my first thought. My second thought was to wake you in a way that wasn't so angelic, but I didn't want to start anything that went against our new rules. So I restrained myself and walked away. I'm so proud of me."

"You would be," she said, rolling her eyes at him and shaking her head. She pointed at the stove. "What are you making down here? It smells delicious."

"You aren't the only one who makes a mean frittata. This is a tre formaggi frittata, a recipe handed down in my family. My Nonna used to make this on Saturday mornings for me and my cousins. This would set us up for a good part of the day, with energy to spare. I haven't made it in a long time so I thought I'd better give myself extra time to prepare it, but once I started, it all came rushing back. If you would pour the orange juice, I'll plate this up." Val reached inside the glass cabinet and retrieved two glasses into which she poured the juice and then followed him over to the small table in the kitchen. He gestured for her to sit down and then put a plate down in front of her. "I can't wait to hear what you think of it," he remarked as he sat opposite her, adding, "Go ahead, take a bite." After tasting a sample, she smiled and told him, "This is great! Your Nonna taught you right—good job. I think if I ate like this every Saturday, though, I'd be roly-poly in no time. It's very filling." She continued eating and he joined her, digging into his own meal. He explained, "That's why we were sent outside to play almost immediately afterward. Well, that, and the adults didn't want us underfoot all day long. Now that I think about it, I think this was one of the only meals I remember my Nonna making. As the women in the family came into their own, I think she started leaving the cooking duties to them. Except for holidays. That's when Nonna really showed out. No one could beat her Pasticcio al forno for Natale—Christmas time. You haven't had Christmas dinner until you've been part of a Natale celebration. So much family you'd think the house would burst. Nothing but constant noise and chaos. I'd love for you to experience that at least once. It's unforgettable."

"It sounds wonderful. We had a couple of traditions for Christmas, too. Sugar cookies of all shapes and colors. Roast turkey with homemade stuffing. Real cranberries instead of the jelly roll. We could open one present each on Christmas Eve night but everything else had to wait until the next day." She paused, her eyes suddenly filling with tears as she thought of her mother. Dante reached across the table and stroked her hand in sympathy, saying, "I hope I didn't bring up any painful memories for you—I should have been thinking-"

"You didn't, Dante. I was just realizing this year would be the first Christmas without her. Your Christmas, your Natale, sounds awesome. Even though it was only the two of us, she tried hard to make it special so I wouldn't feel like I was getting less than the other kids in the neighborhood. It's strange how I never felt lonely; she and I were enough, I guess. Of course I didn't know any different—I thought we were normal but now that I think about it, I suppose we were a bit isolated. And now it's just me." Her tears fell faster and she tried to mop them up with a napkin, laughing, "I can cry at the drop of a hat, it seems. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring you down or anything-"

He pushed back away from the table and then motioned to her with his finger. "Come here." When she hesitated, he repeated, "Come on, come here." When she walked over to his side of the table, he pulled her onto his lap and hugged her as he held her. "First of all," he said, "I don't want you to apologize for your feelings, especially the way you feel about losing your mother. Second of all, even though she's gone, you aren't alone. God help you, but you've inherited the Spencers as family. And you have me, too. You are very far from alone, ok?"

"I feel like I should be stronger than this by now or something…"

"Wow, and there I was feeling honored that you could let yourself be vulnerable in front of me. Now I find out you're just a wimp who can't help herself. Way to burst my bubble." She thumped his chest with a flicked finger as she laughed, which was what he'd intended for her to do. He smiled in response and then jostled her slightly back and forth, reminding her, "We probably should get going if we want to be on time for work. I don't think I'll see you very much today—don't wanna tick off the boss. What are your plans for after?"

"Honestly, my biggest plan is a bubble bath in that huge spa tub with a nice glass of wine after I finish off the Fat Bob's leftovers. I've been promising myself one ever since I moved in here and I keep finding reasons to put it off. Tonight, I'm spoiling myself. Why? What do you have going on?"

"I'm gonna hang out at the loft for a while—Lulu is bringing Rocco over tonight. She has some kind of meeting at the Star so she's dropping him off."

"At least you're getting to see him and spend some time with him."

"Yeah, but it still feels weird-"

"What does?"

"Having to send him back at the end of our visits like, I don't know, like he's hers and she's just allowing me time with him. I thought to have him overnight but she made up some excuse for why it wasn't a good idea." He sighed aloud.

"It's got to be pretty hard on him right now to be away from his mother because he's so small. I know it sounds like a drag and a long time away, but as he gets older, it'll be easier for you to keep him overnight. Try to be patient, ok? As long as he knows who you are and you stay connected to him, neither he nor you will lose out." He chuckled as he hugged her tighter, asking, "Why exactly are you so wise?" "I thought you knew—it's all part of my fabulousness," she joked as she shrugged modestly.

"Well, fabulous angel, I'm gonna put the leftovers away and then we should hit it."

"Thanks for breakfast, Dante—well, for everything, really."

"My pleasure, as always," he replied before giving her wink and a quick peck on the cheek.

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Dante answered the door with a huge grin as he motioned for Lulu to come into the loft. Before she could cross the threshold, he was lifting Rocco out of her arms and hugging him as he smothered him with tickling kisses. Rocco laughed in delight as he squealed and squirmed, trying unsuccessfully to avoid being tickled. Lulu giggled as she witnessed her son's gleefulness, and then sobered up as she addressed Dante. "I don't plan to be gone that long; hopefully, a couple of hours at the most. I have some investors from one of the smaller casinos in Atlantic City interested in a share of the Star. Tracy and I are going to meet with them. Nikolas as well, since he and Tracy also have an interest in the negotiations."

"I thought the whole reason you wanted the Haunted Star in the first place was so you could have something you could share with your father. Why would you be willing to take on outside investors? Next thing you know, they'll be taking over ownership of the club."

"That's why Nikolas is going to be there-because he's a businessman. If we don't like their initial terms, we won't deal. And there's no telling when or even if my dad is coming back. Tracy has to move on and so do I. I don't want to rely solely on Nikolas' money forever. I need to make the Star a viable money maker since I'll be supporting myself and Rocco. I also don't intend to live out on Spoon Island forever. I'm grateful to my brother, but I want to be independent of his help."

"Well, I'm going to be supporting Rocco monthly so that shouldn't be an issue as far as his care goes."

"As you should be doing since that's what we agreed on, but that's separate from what I need to live on."

"Don't tell me you're worried about how you'll make ends meet? You don't have to worry about that, Lulu. I'll make sure you have what you need-"

"Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. You support your son. That's all I need from you. That's all I want from you. Any other offer of 'help' you can keep."

"Ok. I know we're going through this thing-"

"This divorce. Call it what it is, a divorce."

"Fine. I know we're goin' through this divorce, but I was hopin' for Rocco's sake that we could at least be civil, if we couldn't be friends." Lulu snorted out a short laugh before saying, "I wonder sometimes what world you live in. Friends? Really? Civil for Rocco's sake? If I had my way, I'd be using one of Nikolas' people to bring Rocco back and forth to you, and I wouldn't have to see you at all. Like I said, though, I eventually want to break away from his support so there's no reason to start using his people if I'm trying to do things on my own."

"So we can't even speak without hostilities, then? This is the way it's gonna be from now on?"

"Look, this is about as non-hostile as I'm going to get. I'm actually standing in this loft, a place that used to be my home before you tainted it by screwing my cousin. I brought you your son so you could spend some time with him. I'm standing here giving you my time. How much more do you think you're entitled to, Dante?"

"It's not that I think I'm entitled to anything, Lulu. I was only thinkin', for Rocco's sake, that we could come to some kind of peaceful resolution-"

Lulu's temper exploded. "Peaceful resolution! Now you want a peaceful resolution? When I wanted to talk peace, you gave me a card for a divorce mediator and told me we were over. I love how you're always thinking of Rocco, though! So much so that you banged his cousin in his mother's bed! I come home just in time to have my world blown to bits as well as my son's world by you, but by all means, let's have a peaceful resolution between us now!"

"Oh, so is this the new way our history gets written? You as the undeservedly put upon wife who got cheated on? You didn't do anything wrong-"

"I sure didn't do anything that made me deserve you cheating on me with my cousin, no!"

"You act like you told me, 'Hey, I'm goin' to help save my brother,' and I thought, 'Good. This is a perfect time to screw her cousin behind her back!' No! I thought my lying wife—and you can't deny you lied to my face, now—was already cheatin' on me!"

"You sure didn't wait, though, did you? You didn't want to find out the truth! Why miss the chance to have sex with my cousin and blame me for it?"

"You know what? You can believe whatever you want to at this point, Lulu. You're the perfect heroine who didn't do anything wrong. So be it. You're perfect, I'm not. You're sugar and I'm scum—I get it."

"You said it, not me! But no, I don't think you're scum, just a liar who got my heart by promising me forever. I never should have believed you. I knew better but I let myself believe anyway. Never again."

"I didn't set out to hurt you, Lulu! I believed in that forever, too! I wanted it, too! And I counted on it! Right up until the moment I knew you were lookin' me in the eye and lyin' out of your teeth! That's when I stopped believin' in our forever!" Dante's eyes were bulging and his voice was shaking in his fury. All he had wanted to do was spend some time with his son. How had such an innocent desire escalated into a battle?

"Well I stopped believing in us the moment I found out you had slept with my cousin in my bed! And you tried to make me feel bad because you couldn't handle your own guilt! I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for that!"

"Then it's a good thing I'm not askin' for your forgiveness, isn't it? I don't need the Princess, whose crap don't stink, forcin' herself to grant me, the lowly peasant whose crap stinks to high heaven, her exalted forgiveness!"

"You really are an utter bastard, aren't you-" Rocco chose that moment to object to his parents' amplifying voices by beginning to cry. They both reached for him but Dante picked him up first. He bounced him up and down as he tried to quiet and comfort him, whispering, "Shh, shh. It's ok. We're not mad at you, Buddy. Don't cry." He wouldn't be comforted, though, and cried even harder, causing Lulu to say, "Here, give him to me." Dante shot her an angry look before responding, "I've got him, Lulu. I am his father—I'll take care of him. We shouldn't be arguin' like this in front of him, anyway. I told you before I didn't want to do that. I know he's young but I don't want him even havin' a vague memory of his parents yellin' at each other."

"Then I guess you should have thought of that before you banged his cousin in his mother's bed. His life would be totally different if you hadn't have done that, and he wouldn't be seeing his parents yelling at each other." In exasperation, Dante walked over to the loft door and opened it widely. "Don't you have a meetin' to get to? Maybe you should go." Lulu stalked over to the door as she bitterly said, "Yeah, I should go. It's not like there's anything for me here but Rocco anyway. I'll be back for him in a couple of hours."

"Fine," he growled, slamming the door forcefully after her. He rubbed Rocco's back and his crying slowly subsided into intermittent hiccupping sobs. Dante sat down on the couch and gently rocked his son back and forth. Eventually, he felt Rocco relax against him as he fell asleep. How is it possible, he wondered in bewilderment, that so much love could turn into so much animosity and venom? Was it overnight, or had it really been building, lying just under the surface, waiting for an opportunity to explode? He didn't have an answer. All he knew was his feelings for the woman he had once loved more than life itself were fading away and being replaced by an almost savage contempt. How had they gotten here? If feuding couples could find the answer to that question, he finally reasoned, the divorce rate probably wouldn't be so high…

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